Growing in Discipleship

Ephesians 4:1-2a

Growing in Discipleship

Prepared by Dr. John E. Marshall

 

Eph. 4:1-2a (Holman) Therefore I, the prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk worthy of the calling you have received, with all humility. . .

 

Here begins the second major division of Ephesians. The first section (EP 1-3), capsulized in the word "sit" (2:6), emphasized who we believers are, whose we are, and the benefits of our spiritual birthright we enjoy in heavenly places (1:3).

We yearn to stay forever on the joyful height of Ephesians 1-3, but work needs to be done below, down in the valley of everyday living. "Therefore", Paul presses ahead to the natural sequel and manifesta­tion of our blessed state. The second division of Ephesians will emphasize our "walk" (4:1d), our daily conduct. 

Christianity is, before God, essentially sitting, an inner life, a clean heart. Before people, it is essentially walking, an outer life of clean living. Both are vital.

"Walk" denotes a course of life, habitual conduct. Christianity entails high moral standards. Pagans worshiped idols, and went out and lived as they pleased. Believers cannot do this. In Christianity, the call to belong is a call to behave.

However smart and theological we are, if we fail in conduct, we embarrass Christ, and bring shame upon Him. This is not to say Christians will be perfect.

We sin, but our lives can be "worthy" of the call in the sense of their over-riding tenor being governed by holy motives. Godliness can be our dominant trait.

Before God, we are never worthy; before people, be ever worthy. The elders said of the centurion, "He is worthy for You to grant this." In contrast the centurion said of himself, "I am not worthy to have You come under my roof" (LK 7:4,6).

Who was right? The elders or the centurion? Both. In the man's deportment, in the way he bore himself before others, he was "worthy", as the elders claimed.

          On the other hand, when he viewed himself before Jesus, the centurion rightly deemed himself "not worthy". Before God we know we never live a life flawless enough, but before people we can live a life appropriate to the calling.

Paul's life illustrated this. He called himself "chief" of sinners (1 TM 1:15), yet also said, "I have kept the faith" (2 TM 4:7). The two are not contradictory, but complementary. Out­ward worthiness and inward unworthiness grow concurrently.

Worthy/unworthy—how do we reach this plateau? Paul said we have to do it "humbly". We must admit we cannot do this alone. We need the power of God, and each other, the community of believers, to be fully equipped for the journey of life.

Growing in Boldness

Ephesians 3:8-13

Growing in Boldness

Prepared by Dr. John E. Marshall

 

Eph. 3:8-9 (Holman) This grace was given to me—the least of all the saints—to proclaim to the Gentiles the incalculable riches of the Messiah, and to shed light for all about the administration of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things.

 

          In the best saints, high self-regard is rare. The heaviest stalks of wheat bend the lowest, as do limbs most heavily laden with fruit. As we rise spi­ritually, we are less satisfied with ourselves. The clo­ser we get to light, the more easily we see flaws.

          Whom God advan­ces, He hum­bles and makes low in their own eyes. Abra­ham con­fessed, "I am but dust and ashes" (GN 18:27); Job, "I am vile" (40:4); David, "I was sha­ped in iniquity" (PS 51:5); Ezra, "I blush to lift up my face" (9:6); Isaiah, "I am undone. . .a man of unclean lips" (6:5); Peter, "I am a sinful man" (Luke 5:8).

          When Paul had to, he could speak very boldly, yea brashly, of his ministry.  He was quick to persuade people of his work's valid­ity, but defended himself only to the extent necessary to convince people of his aposto­lic authority. Paul exalted his office, but humbled himself, never con­fusing God's glory with his own commonness.

          His self-evaluating pilgrimage was interest­ing. About 57 A.D., he wrote to Corin­th, "I am the least of the apostles" (1 Cor. 15:9). Three years later he penned our text, lowering his position to "the least of all the saints."  About 63 A.D., he lowered his self-opinion even more, saying he was the chief of sinners (1 Timothy 1:15).

          Years of walking with Jesus humbled Paul. He came to see that underneath his ministry, revelations, calling, and mission, was a man who deserved none of these things. Beneath all the trim­mings, Paul saw "least" as a true assessment of himself.

          Humility in us is important to God because it forces His people to depend on Him. Humility is not merely an ornament, but a necessity. Where humility is lacking, all true spirituality is lacking. When humility abounds, God's benefits are multiplied.

          Humility lets us be living examples of the message of grace we proclaim. Paul effectively preached grace because he knew he was an ultimate illustration of it. Proud lips cannot witness well. Humility embodies what we say. Our confession of being unworthy magni­fies God's grace. Our admitting weakness exalts God's power.

          Relentlessly pursuing humility may as much as any other quest be the essence of Christian living. Asked what is the first step in religion, Martin Luther replied, "Humility." Asked what is the second step, he repeated, "Humility." Asked of the third step, he said again, "Hu­mility." Set yourself to the task of acquiring humility.

          Do we share Paul's humility? Preaching on this text, Spurgeon ex­claimed, "I sympathize with him in his wonder! My heart cries, 'Why me, O Lord, why me?'"  A man asked Joseph Par­ker, "Why did Jesus choose Judas the betrayer as one of the twelve?" The famous preach­er replied, "I am not able to answer, but the great mys­tery to me is not why He chose Judas, but why should the Lord have chosen me."

 

Eph. 3:10-11 This is so God's multifaceted wisdom may now be made known through the church to the rulers and authorities in the heavens. This is according to His eternal purpose accomplished in the Messiah, Jesus our Lord.

 

          This text returns us to the idea of "heavenly places", the God-dimension, the unseen universe, the eternal order beyond the world perceived by our five senses.  "Heavenly places" is the present, at hand, home of believers, where we are blessed (1:3), Jesus sits by the Father (1:20), believers sit with Jesus (2:6), spiritual warfare is waged (6:12), and where "God's multifaceted wisdom" is made known (3:10).

          As believers, a benefit of living in "heavenly places" is being able to see how God deals with us in marvelous ways. Our text deals with another set of citizens who also share in this benefit. "Rulers and authorities" depicts angels marshalled as an army, in ranks and divisions. These flaming spirits, our fellow residents in "heavenly places," watch us, the Church, to see manifest the "manifold wisdom of God."  "Hea­ven­ly pla­ces" is a theater where angels, as spectators, gain a better appreciation for God's "manifold wisdom" by watching the Church act out its role on Earth's stage.

 

Eph. 3:12-13  In Him we have boldness and confident access through faith in Him. So then I ask you not to be discouraged over my afflictions on your behalf, for they are your glory.

         

          "Boldness" translates a term linking two words meaning "all" and "telling."  Hence, the word means to tell all. Greeks used this term to signify "the free speech which was the right of every citizen in a democratic state" (Bruce). Believers have freedom of speech before God. We can be to­tally frank and honest with Him.

          We pray, not timidly, but persuaded He wants to hear us, and will answer all our prayers. He responds with yes, no, or wait, but always answers us. We know God listens to us. Thus in His presence, we can relax, open our hearts, and speak freely.

          "Access" refers to liberty of approach. "Confident" means we have assur­ance our access to God will be neither challenged nor denied. If we feel we have to come by stealth, we will fear being caught and cast out. On the other hand, if we feel we have "confident access", we know God's gate is always open. No guards interfere.

          Don't come to God hesitantly. A fearful Roman citizen once approached Caesar Augustus with trem­bling. The emperor, offended by this, asked, "Do you take me for an ele­phant that will tear you?" God, too, is hurt when we come as if He does not care for us. Doubting God's love will always leave a believer anemic in prayer.

 

          Our "boldness and confident access" are possible "through faith in Him", that is, Jesus. Our approach to God is based not on our merit, but on our Mediator's worth.

          Only by our union with Jesus, are we allowed to approach God. Recognizing our need for a Medi­a­tor keeps us mindful of our sinfulness as contrasted to God's holiness. This protects us from presump­tion, and helps us display proper reverence.

          Once we show "faith in him," once we understand the ground rules, deeming us sinners, and God holy, we then with our Mediator "have boldness and confident access," the soul of Christian living. Faith changes our attitude about approaching God. Unbelievers seek distance, and want to forget about a holy God, but blood-bought believers seek intimacy. We thirst after God, knowing we have "confident access" due to our Mediator, Jesus Christ. Let us be busy practicing what we possess.

          We need to know the full extent of our access, and should exercise our right to the hilt. Jesus gives us access not only to God's door, but to His house. I dare to venture farther. We can eat at His table, and come to His throne room. I hesitate to press on, but will. We can be familiar with Him and speak intimately. We can lean on His arm and rest in His lap, for He offers us His heart, His innermost essence.

          Do come with reverence, do come with a Mediator, but also boldly come all the way, satisfied with nothing less than a straightfor­ward, up close, encounter with God. Covet not only God's ear, but also His heart. We can have His ear at a distance, but our birthright is, and our desire must be, nothing less than closeness in His arms.

          Prayer is hard work, and usually its most difficult part is gaining a sense of truly close "access". The most critical moment of prayer is often the instant a saint first begins to approach God. God knows what we need before we ask for it. Thus, our requests are not as im­­por­­tant as sensing "access", intimate closeness to God.

          At the out­set, confront and remove every obstacle to "access".  Never post­pone prayer till you feel better or the right mood comes along. If we do not feel the disposition to pray, the sentiment is de­monic. Ask God to drive Satan away.

          If we sense personal unclean­ness, ask for forgive­ness. If we feel out of place, remember our entry ticket was bought by the blood of God's own Son. If our mind wanders, focus on our seat in heavenly places. If we feel weak, ask for strength.

          If we know not what to say, ask for wisdom. Whatever blocks "confident access," have it re­moved quickly and march into "heavenly places" where we belong.

         The extent to which we perceive we have infiltrated the hea­ven­ly throne ­room will have much to do with our spiritual effectiveness. Deep entry is our best support under the troubles of the world, and our best defense against temptation. In battle, do not focus too much on Satan. Know our foe adequately, but know Jesus abundantly, for as we gain to­tal access to Him we are made invincible against assaults of Hell.

 

Ephesians 3:1-7

Ephesians 3:1-7

Growing in Understanding the Mystery

Prepared by Dr. John E. Marshall

 

Eph. 3:1a (Holman) For this reason, I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus. . .

 

          Paul was a prisoner. His resume had a few hiccups in it. This was not even his only imprisonment. Paul often ran afoul of the authorities, yet here we are, gathered on a Sunday, each of us holding copies of his writings in our hand, and poring over his words. We love Paul, and honor him as one of the greatest men who ever lived. Fortunately, God has never judged anyone by their ratings in popularity polls.

          In our text, Paul was not saying he was suffering due to the cause of Jesus.  He was for sure in prison due to his ministry, but this was not the thought being conveyed in "the prisoner of Christ Jesus." Paul, depicting himself as belonging solely to Jesus, saw his suffering as part of the lot assigned him by Christ.

          Pondering his plight, he wondered, "Why am I here?" In his solitude, he found only one answer. Paul was in jail because Jesus had ordered it, and wanted him there.

          Romans viewed Paul as a prisoner of Rome and Caesar; Paul saw himself a prisoner of Heaven and God. Paul felt he was totally "the prisoner of Christ Jesus."

          The Apostle, by seeing himself as Christ's property, knew he could never be a victim of circumstances. Paul realized he was, without Christ's consent, subject to no one or nothing. He measured every deed, relationship, and circumstance, in this light.

          Paul was chained to a soldier, but knew who his real Captor was. He knew who held the keys to the cuffs chafing his wrists, and who locked the door of his cell.

          The end of his imprisonment, be it release or death, will be determined by a nail-pierced King. Properly understanding this truth gave Paul inner calm. Had he merely viewed himself "the prisoner," he would have found ample reason to sulk.

          Fusing "the prisoner" with "of Christ Jesus" lifted everything higher, and put suffering in a light that burned out all self-pity. Troubles become an honor when we can couple them with Jesus' name. Our outlook affects everything. How do we view our lot in life? Is it a hardship, or do we see in our troubles God's hand?  Has our humbly accepting them "as from a Father's hand" reached Heaven as lovely worship?

          When first hit with a hardship, we stagger a bit briefly, but must eventually gain our footing and march forward. Let nothing overwhelm us, or make us bitter. Even in the worst circumstances, we must rise to expressing joy. We must imitate Paul's understanding of the Christian life by lifting our view of trials to lofty heights.

         

Eph. 3:1b-3  . . .on behalf of you Gentiles—You have heard, haven't you, about the administration of God's grace that He gave to me for you? The mystery was made known to me by revelation, as I have briefly written above.

         

          Paul was abused because he stood up for us Gentiles. Paul endured persecution because he would make no racial or ethnic dis­­tinc­tions. Paul mentioned this over and over again. He obviously loved it, and always hardly believed it.

          He was amazed at himself. The fact he cared about Gentiles was to him incredible. He who had been a fanatic Pharisee was zealously proselytizing Gentiles.

          Paul could see only one explanation for himself--God. Only God could have orchestrated this amazing paradox, this marvelous irony, this shocking turnaround.

          God took the A#1 blue-ribbon champion Pharisee and made him Apostle to the heathen. God truly has a flair for the dramatic. His ways are astounding, baffling.

          May we beneficiaries of Paul's message of inclusion never be ex­clu­ders. A blight on an otherwise noble ministry can be the lim­ited breadth of one's Christianity. If a congregation sells itself en­tire­ly to one socioeconomic level, one race, one ethnic group, one party or denomination, to the exclusion of others, they choke the Gospel.

          Paul was careful to say his message was not a personal dis­cov­ery he could brag about; it was a gift from God, a "revelation."  The word refers to an uncover­ing, a laying bare, a disclosure. Christian truth is not a product of hu­man knowledge.

          Our message is not ordinary truth. It comes from God. Peo­ple urgently need the "rev­elation" believers have. Varro, a first century B.C. Ro­man writer, collected responses to the question, "What is the true object of human life?" Regard­ing what was deemed the ultimate good, he compiled 320 dif­fer­ent answers. We need divine "revel­ation"!  Without it we run pell-mell in all directions, frantic to find a cause and life's meaning. We need God's "rev­elation" to tell us how to live and what to live for.

          The "revelation" unveiled a "mystery". We think of a "mystery" as an enigma, something hard to figure out, but in the New Testament, "mystery" refers to a truth God kept concealed and secret at one time, but eventu­al­ly re­vealed and made known.

          Once revealed, a "mystery" is not hard to understand. The "mystery" revealed to Paul was, Gentiles were to be admitted into the king­dom on the same terms with Jews. The "mystery" centered in God's promised Messiah. God's hid­den purpose regarding Mes­siah was revealed. Jesus came not for Israel only, but also for Gentiles.

 

Eph. 3:4-5 By reading this you are able to understand my insight about the mystery of the Messiah. This was not made known to people in other generations as it is now revealed to His holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit.

 

          Paul wanted us to understand what he knew. We can stand beside him, analyze his words, and understand his insights "by reading." Paul assumed what he wrote would be read in order to be understood. This is still a most basic assumption of Christian living. What has been written in Holy Writ is to be read, pondered, and compre­hended. God wants us to learn and know the truths He revealed to Paul. He wants us to be knowledgeable, to think on our own, to have our own understanding.

          God seeks people who will be students of His Word, who will pore over Scripture, as the Bereans did. Paul, bitterly treated in Thes­salonica, slipped by night into Berea. The people there "were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether these things were so. Therefore many of them believed" (Acts 17:11-12a).  Oh for more Bereans, for saints who love the Word and scrutinize its substance.

          On a personal note, reading the Bible cover to cover each year is the single most helpful discipline in my life. Reading the Bible helps. Take time to do it daily.

          Deem yourself entirely dependent on the Bible. Its every word is coun­sel from God. We have no saving, definitive word from God apart from what Scripture says.

          We too often take the Bible for granted. For instance, some people wish they could hear God's audible voice, forgetting that Scripture is as au­thorita­tive as a voice from Heaven. Some think they would live better lives if God spoke out loud to them, but Israel heard God speak audibly, and right away sinned. Some say visions and dreams would be more effec­tive than Holy Writ; not true. Read! We need no more than what is written. We may want the key to success to be God doing something spec­tacular or extraordinary, but to hear God, we hear Him "by reading" the Bible.

 

Eph. 3:6-7  The Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and partners of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel. I was made a servant of this gospel by the gift of God's grace that was given to me by the working of His power.

 

          In other words, God deserved all the credit for everything Paul accomplished. All his life, from the Damascus Road to Nero's dungeon, could be explained only on the basis of a power source beyond himself. He was changed from murderer to minister, from Pharisee to preacher to Gentiles, from arrogance to awe, from fame to abuse--the power that changed him at first continued without ceasing or depletion.

          The church-planting, missions, and evangelism assigned to Paul required more than human strength. We are called to the same task, and it still requires miracle-power. "To lose depend­ence is to lose everything" (MacArthur), for we can­not labor effectively in our own strength. Absolute, uninterrupted dependence on God is our only safeguard. Our greatest danger is not falling from a Spirit-filled life directly into open sin. The worst peril is quietly slipping from doing good things in the Spirit to doing good things in the flesh. The latter position is the dropping off point into sin.  Remain ever mindful of our need for the Spirit's power.